The Gentleman Bettor
by Meladara
Summary: Bound by the rules of magical society into performing a forfeit, despite the fact the Lucius clearly cheated in order to win the bet, Severus learns that sometimes it can pay to lose. However, that doesn't mean that revenge is off the table.
1. Oh! The Whims of the Malfoys

**A/N: This fic was originally written for the Bringing Back the Bastard Fest at the Deeply Horrible community on livejournal. This community's goal is to showcase and preserve the more unsavory sides of Severus Snape. As this fic was written with this goal in mind, please understand that he may behave in a slightly irrational and vindictive manner. Though, I do think I did a rather good job of making him both a bastard and capable of feeling. Plus, I was able to sneak in some fluff and nonsense! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

** ~Meladara~**

**Muchas Gracias to Laralee88 and Sixpence Jones for betaing! You two know I think the world of you!**

******_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter One - Oh, the Whims of the Malfoys

_"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy_

~oOOOo~

Severus Snape's eyes narrowed, his hands tightening their grip his whiskey glass as he listened to his friend. He could not believe the nerve of the blonde man. Yes, he was one of his oldest and closest friends, but that did not mean he could force him into such debasing activities as blind dates! The gall. Severus continued to rant in his mind as his eyes glazed over, unseeing. His companion elegantly sipped brandy while studying Severus from his chair. Just as Severus had moved on to creating increasingly horrifying ways to get back at the man for this outrage, a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Severus, are you even listening to me?" Lucius asked impatiently.

Black eyes once again focused on grey. The angry glint found in the dark orbs would have been enough to steal breath from a lesser man, but Lucius had been dealing with the many moods of Severus Snape long enough to know how to handle the situation.

"Ah, good. I see I have once again captured your attention," Lucius drawled causally. "Now, you shall meet your date at _Epine Noire_ on Christmas Eve at eight o'clock in the evening." He continued on, ignoring the lack of response and steely gaze of his friend. Lucius knew he was listening and catching every detail; Severus had no choice but to do so. "No need to worry about how to identify her, Gustave will know who she is and will lead you to her table when you arrive. All I ask is that you behave and... Just be yourself, Severus. For too many years we have watched you lurk in the shadows. You deserve happiness. We sincerely believe that your date would be a good match for you."

The only response Lucius received was a further tightening of the glare. It was, if at all possible, even more vicious than it had been only moments before. His friend let out a grunt of acknowledgment before slamming down his glass and storming from the room.

As a wicked smile started to stretch across his face, he wished he could be a fly on the wall when his dear friend met his date this Saturday. Though he did truly believe that she would be a good match for his old friend, he knew that the history between then would make it impossible for his friend to see her as such. It would serve him right for betting against Lucius Malfoy.

~oOOOo~

Hermione Granger struggled through the door of her flat with bag and package laden arms. She had spent the afternoon shopping for last-minute Christmas gifts and was very happy to have made it back into the comfort of her home.

Kicking the door closed behind her, she wearily settled her bundles on the small kitchen table and began to peel off her many layers of damp clothing. When she had removed her thick winter coat and outer jumper, she turned to make herself a much-needed pot of tea. Turning on the kettle, she set out the tea-things and then slumped back into the chair with relief.

It was an unusually cold winter; the streets were thick with snow, and the icy wind that stung against her small amount of exposed flesh had made what had been an unpleasant outing absolutely miserable. In fact, it had been due to the frigid weather that she hadn't finished her shopping earlier. Normally, she completed her shopping weeks in advance, each gift carefully selected for each person, but between working nonstop at the charity and the dreadful weather, she'd had neither had the time nor energy to even think of purchasing Christmas gifts. However, Christmas was now only three days away. No longer able put it off, she was forced to brave both the crowds and the snow to get her last-minute shopping done.

The singing of the kettle startled her from the dazed contemplation of her day of shopping. With what little energy she could muster, Hermione pushed herself up from her chair with a sigh and began to prepare the tea. Just as she settled back into her chair, the small tea-tray sat before her in a hastily cleared spot on the table, a tapping sounded at the window. Seeing an owl fluttering just outside, she flicked her wand and the window flew open. A bluster of snow followed the tawny owl into the flat as it flew toward her. Hermione eyed the snow with irritation as the chill of the winter air rushed into the room. Flicking her wand once again, the window snapped shut, and as the owl landed, it looked from the tired woman to the window and then let out a confused hoot.

"Oh, hush, Cira. I'll open it again when you are ready to leave," Hermione chided. Reaching up, she scritched the owl fondly. "It isn't like you honestly want to go back out in this weather. It is positively arctic out there. I can't imagine what Narcissa thought was important enough to send you out in such weather. She could have just flooed me, after all." Again the owl hooted, and then, putting out its leg, it offered up a missive to Hermione.

With a roll of her eyes, she untied the note while clicking her tongue gently at the owl. "Silly girl. I know you can handle the weather and are excellent at doing your job. No need to get stroppy. Now, how about we get you a little treat before you go?"

Again she flicked her wand, this time causing a small jar of owl treats to float across the room to land on the table. Reaching in, she pulled out a small handful and offered them to Cira. As the owl pecked delicately at the treats, Hermione ran her fingers over the owl's soft feathers.

"All right, Cira. You ready to go?" she asked when the owl finished. Hermione knew that Cira, like all Malfoy owls, was serious about her job and would not stick around for further coddling, no matter what the weather. The owl responded with a hoot and turned toward the window through which she had entered.

"Have a safe flight, dear girl," Hermione said as she magicked the window open, and the owl glided back out into the winter weather.

Once the window fully closed behind the owl and the latest bluster of snow had settled upon the sill, Hermione turned back to her tea and missive. Opting to prepare herself a cup first, she set aside the letter. When she had the piping hot tea in hand, Hermione allowed herself to relax further on her chair and slipped off her shoes. It had been a long day and sitting down with a cup of tea was just what she needed. Wrapping her fingers around the cup, the heat seeped through her hands. Slowly, she took soothing sips and allowed the cold chill of the day slip from her. Then, when she finally felt herself fully content and warm, she reached for the missive and settled in to see what Narcissa had to say.

It was an odd friendship, the one existing between Hermione Granger and Narcissa Malfoy. They had first formally met at a post-war charity to benefit war orphans. Hermione was on the board of a newly opened Wizarding orphanage, and Narcissa was one of the primary contributors to the charity. They had worked together planning an outing for the seventeen children receiving benefits through the charity a few months later and had immediately formed a sincere, if cautious, friendship. That had been four years ago. Since that time, they had worked on numerous other charity events, and their friendship had only grown. Then, this past summer, Narcissa invited Hermione to holiday with her at a French chateau while Mr. Malfoy was away on a business trip. Hermione had been hesitant to accept at first, but as it had been clear to her that Narcissa was sincere in her desire for companionship, she had decided to go. The two had spent a lovely week together. Hermione had happily explored hidden bookstores, while Narcissa had revelled in gently introducing the young woman to the world of high fashion. Hermione had never known that shopping could be such fun and the two had parted ways fast friends.

Hermione took a final sip of tea and then sat the cup aside in order to pay full attention to the letter.

_December 23, 2003_

_Hermione, _

_I know that I may be stepping past the bounds of our friendship; however, it has become apparent that you, my dear companion, have fallen into a disturbingly unhealthy way of life. I do not wish to see you live your life out alone and over-worked. You are young and vibrantly beautiful, and so often you forget that fact. I am very much aware of the hours you are putting in at Nym's House as of late. I have spies everywhere, and working as much as you are is not healthy. _

_As such, you will report, dressed in your winters finest, to Epine Noire at 7:50 on the evening of Christmas Eve. Your date, I assure you, will be of the highest quality, both in manners, dress, and mind. Do arrive at your appointed time; he will be arriving at eight o'clock. I am sure that you will, if nothing else, have a nice time plotting ways to get back at meddlesome friends. _

_And please, do not be so daft as to try to wheedle your way out of this. I know you have nothing planned, as you told me yourself that your parents were visiting Switzerland this Christmas and that the Weasley Family Christmas held no appeal as it would include your former beau and his latest tart. I will not hesitate to hunt you down and Apparate you to the restaurant myself if you choose to ignore the invitation. _

_Until I see you again. _

_Yours, _

_Narcissa Malfoy_

_PS: Please, do not forget that you have promised to attend my Christmas Ball. I will send over Linky, as promised, on Christmas day. ~N._

Hermione was stunned. Not about the ball, of course, she had argued long and hard with Narcissa about attending but as usual had lost. That Narcissa would force her into a date was what had her reeling. As the letter fell from her fingers, she let out a deep sigh of dread. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the occasional date, but a blind date set up by a meddling socialite was not very appealing. Ronald Weasley and her had ended their relationship the year before and she had been fodder for the tabloids ever since. Yes, she hadn't gone out much of late, and the hours she was putting in at Nym's House were long, but there was nothing wrong with devoting one's time to making the lives of the children living there better. And really, who could blame her? Every time she had gone out with anyone of the opposite sex, the _Daily Prophet_ had them married with three kids and a country cottage by morning. It was for that reason alone that she had avoided being seen in public with anyone other than Ginny, Harry or Narcissa for the last three months.

Still, at least Narcissa had enough foresight to arrange for the date to occur at _Epine Noire_. The restaurant was famous for its discretion and exclusivity. If she went, then the date would, at the very least, manage to stay out of the headlines.

Hermione quickly stood from the table and walked over to the window. Watching the snow bluster and swirl outside, she felt the familiar weight of anxiety settle on her. She hated this. Hermione was very aware that Narcissa was right about her isolating herself; she had hidden herself away. But it hurt to continually have the paper speculating about her life, building castles in the clouds for her each week, only to mock and tear them down the next. The week this past summer in France had been a welcome respite from the stress of her public life. It had been a long time since she had felt so happy. She knew that Narcissa really was simply looking out for her well-being and wanted to give her a chance to unwind in a place that she could be assured of her privacy.

It was then that Hermione knew she would go. _Why not?_ she asked herself and she walked purposefully back to the table and began gathering up the packages from the table.

Narcissa was an excellent judge of character, and if she had chosen someone for her to spend the evening with, then Hermione knew she could be assured he wouldn't be a bumbling idiot. With her decision made, Hermione walked down the hall to her bedroom with arms full. If she was going on a date at Epine Noire the following evening, she needed to start getting things ready now.

~oOOOo~

Severus looked down at the letter in his hand and read it again.

_December 23, 2003_

_Severus, _

_I understand that you have been forced into this; Lucius made clear to me the terms of your forfeit. However, it concerns me that you, in your typical irritating manner, will take out your frustration on your date. So, I have taken it upon myself to make a couple of things clear. _

_First, your date is a kind young woman, who is intelligent and holds you in the highest regard. And though she does not know your identity, I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she will treat you with the utmost respect. Please return the favour. _

_Second, your date knows nothing of your silly bet and it should stay that way. She does not need to know that you were idiotic enough to get yourself involved in a vow-bound bet and lost! Lucius refuses to disclose to me the nature of the bet and, given that fact, I have not pressed the issue further. But let me just say, you asked for it and thus must pay the price. The price at this time is to behave. Please do so. _

_Third, if I find out that you were so uncouth as to upset your date or behave in a manner that is anything but gentlemanly, I will personally see to it that your life is made into your own personal hell. I hear that due to your upcoming negotiations with her father, Prudence Parkinson has once again been asking after you, and I have no qualms about encouraging her to seek you out at the Christmas Ball if you step out of line. Do not tempt me._

_Best wishes for a lovely Yuletide, Severus._

_Your sincere friend, _

_Narcissa Malfoy_

"Damn it," he spat as he crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire. He couldn't believe the pair of them, meddling in his life and then forcing him into civility with the ninny they had set him up with. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be a ninny. They always were.

This was not the first time that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had steamrolled him. In fact, it was becoming a time-honoured tradition for them to force him into humiliating engagements, the Christmas Ball being a very good example. Worst of all, Severus knew that this time Lucius had cheated. He'd hoped that, just this once, he would be able to get one over on the slippery man, but no, once again he had come out the loser. The binding magic of the bet allowed no room for challenging the validity of the win in the face of Slytherin tactics, though he was sure Lucius had used as many questionable tactics as he could to achieve this victory.

No matter, he had played nice for Narcissa plenty of times before, and there was no way he was going to risk Narcissa setting her dogs after him. There was a very good reason Prudence Parkinson was still single, she was a trollish woman with poor hygiene and little brains. He wasn't interested in touching that woman with a ten-foot pole. If all it took to fulfil the forfeit and get Narcissa off his back was one evening of dinner, then he would grit his teeth and bear it. Though, to be sure, he would find a way to pay them back as soon as possible.

~oOOOo~


	2. Drive Each To Surprise

**A/N: Alright! I really didn't plan on posting the next chapter until next weekend! But you've all been so lovely today, with your reviews and kind words, and so as a reward, I am uploading chapter two. It is the shortest of all the chapters, but it is still something!**

**Thanks for making my day guys! From here on out chapters will be posted on Fridays - one per weekend - until finished. Much love and many thanks for all your support!**

**~Meladara~**

**To Laralee88 and Sixpence Jones, for betaing for me and for general all around awesomeness: *massive hugs***

**_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**_  
_

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter Two – Drive Each to Surprise

"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy

~oOOOo~

The snow was blowing down in swirls and spirals that caught Severus' cloak. The fabric whipped around him in wild flutters as he made his way from the nearest Apparation point toward his destination. Ahead, he could just make out small, glowing windows, a shining beacon in the sea of white. Thinking of the warmth that lay beyond the glass, he suppressed a shiver as he quickened his snow-muffled steps. An icy swirl of snow spun before him and blew into his face and along his neck. He paused his progress and muttered a quiet warming charm as he squinted through the white haze that temporarily shrouded his vision. Then, scanning the distance intently for a moment, the light of the restaurant window once again became clear, and he continued resolutely on. He knew that if he was to have any hope of getting through this evening civilly, then he needed to get out of this blizzard as quickly as possible. Contrary to popular belief, Severus Snape hated the cold.

~oOOOo~

Hermione sat at a small table, tucked into an intimate, secluded alcove of _Epine Noire_. Dressing with particular care, she had managed to arrive at the restaurant exactly on time for her date, looking the picture of beauty. Now sitting in a form-fitting green dress, she took delicate sips from a wine glass as her eyes idly gazed around the room.

From the small alcove, she could not see any of the other guests, not that she really cared to anyway. Hermione was well aware that the privacy charms protected each of the tables from the intrusive eyes of onlookers. All that she could make out around the room was the deep, dark wood of the walls and the glow of the candles floating hauntingly above each table. Strange, exotic music drifted across the space at just the right level to allow for conversation, while still wrapping each table in a blanket of intimacy. She knew that her date would be arriving any moment and was doing her best to keep as calm and composed as possible. Hermione wasn't sure who she had been set up with, but she had every hope that Narcissa knew her well enough to make a good guess as to which sort of man could capture her interest.

The light spilling from the foyer of the restaurant flickered as a patron entered. The movement of a shadow obstructing the flow of light drew the attention of the watching woman. The new guest, whom Hermione knew would most likely be her date, paused for a moment and shuffled with his clothing.

_Removing his coat_, Hermione thought as she continued to watch.

When the man emerged from the room accompanied by the maître d'. The two spoke in quiet tones in the dim light of the restaurant, and then, after the maître d' nodded, they began to make their way across the room. Hermione squinted but could not make out the features of the new man. For a moment she was disappointed that the privacy charms would preserve his anonymity until he arrived at his table. It would have been nice to get a glimpse at her date, if this was him, before he got to her. What she could tell was that he was a tall, lean man with a quick, determined step. Though his clothes too were obscured, she could see that he was dressed in dark colours. When it became clear that they were indeed heading to her table, she took a final sip of wine and quickly composed herself for the coming evening.

~oOOOo~

Severus followed behind Gustave, scanning ahead for his date. The privacy charms of this blasted place were both a blessing and curse. He did appreciate that he could eat without the intrusive looks of former enemies and pupils, but the fact that he couldn't get a clear vision of his date disconcerted the spy in him.

As he neared the table, Gustave stopped and turned back to face him. Then drawing his wand from a hidden pocket, the old man said, "If it pleases, sir, I will now add you to the charm for this table. It is for your privacy of course. You and your dining companion shall be visible only to one another while sitting at this table or in physical contact within these walls. All charms placed upon you are set to terminate upon your re-entering the foyer of our establishment. Do you agree?"

Severus nodded curtly and felt the magic wash over him. Then, as Gustave nodded and faded into the back ground of the restaurant, the table before him shifted and then crystallized into clarity. His eyes, at first, simply adjusted to the newly clear surroundings, but after a second, they settled upon the woman sitting at the table and took in each small detail about her. First, he took in the tight green dress that accentuated her body in a most flattering manner and the exacting posture with which she sat in her chair. Her breasts, while modestly covered, were alluringly evident.

His eyes grazed over the turn of her waist absently noting that it indicated a healthy body which was full of womanly curves. Approving of the lush form of her body and poised nature, he moved on with his examination. His eyes grazed over her hands, which had just set her wine glass upon the table. They were small and delicate.

_She seems to be a small but well made creature_, he thought as his eyes continued on to her face.

For a quick moment, his eyes lit upon her pink lips, which were currently showcasing a small smile that quirked to one side. They were fresh, plump and surely soft, and though he wouldn't mind contemplating the many things the lips could do, he did not linger there. Instead, he chose to move on to her eyes and hair. Her hair was pulled back into a wild twisted knot. Negligent curls framed her face and brushed against the skin of her neck, just asking to be pushed aside in pursuit of the flesh hidden beneath. Her eyes were a deep cinnamon, and they washed over him in warm wave that were full of vibrant life. He began to step forward as the woman took in a deep breath and simultaneously moved to stand in order to properly greet him.

~oOOOo~

As he had been spelled into the charm of the table, Hermione watched the shape of her date shimmer and shift into a fit and decidedly attractive form of a man. He wore expensive clothing that were clearly tailored to fit him and probably cost a small fortune. His hands, which hung casually at his side, had long, lean fingers. They looked to be rough and strong, as if this man used his hands each day in physical tasks that marked him. Hermione felt a small jolt run through her; this man worked for his living. She could not abide those who idled away their life, resting on laurels. A small quirk of approval lit up her face, and she moved on with her perusal. He was very tall and had dark hair that was pulled back into a queue. His skin, which was flush from the cold, was rather pale but not so much that it looked sickly. Wanting to greet him properly, she began to slide her legs to the side of her chair in order to stand, and that was when their eyes met.

Recognition and horror flooded the pair of them instantly as he froze mid-step, and she sat down hard in her chair, full of shock.

_Fuck_, Hermione thought as she realised exactly who was standing before her. She had been ogling her former professor, her very handsome, bastard of a former professor.

"Fuck," Severus said bitterly under his breath, unknowingly echoing her unspoken curse. His jaw clenched in frustration, as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. It would be just his luck that Lucius would pick one of the most beautiful and undoubtedly intelligent witches around, while still ensuring that she would be absolutely unsuitable. There was no way he could ever be interested in the Princess of the Gryffindor trio, and Lucius knew it.

He growled out, his voice raw and feral, "Ms Granger."

Hermione startled at the sound of his voice as thousands of memories flooded her. The long forgotten drawl of his acidic tones brought to the forefront of her mind the image of her intolerant Potions Professor. Her heart began to race, causing her stomach to churn nervously. What had Narcissa thrown her into?

Gulping audibly, she returned in as quiet and calm a voice as she could manage, "Professor Snape."


	3. In Losing He Wins Part One

_I only got so far with editing tonight. Since I want to get this chapter posted and it is a little longer than the others with a natural breaking point, I'm going to post what I have edited now. Chapter Three ~ Part two will come tomorrow or the next day. _

_Just know that the louder you yell at me (ie. review and demand the next bit), the more quickly it will get my arse in gear and finish my editing, so it can be posted. LOL! :o)_

_~Meladara~_

___The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter Three – In Losing He Wins

"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy

~oOOOo~

Severus glared down at the petite woman as the feeling of absolute irritation coursed through him. He couldn't exactly pin point what it was about her that drove him to such immediate vexation, but he thought that perhaps it was the fact that she was looking up at him with nervous, doe-like eyes, or it could have been the blanching of her cheeks and the quickening of her breath that was causing his temperament to deteriorate. Nevertheless, whatever it was, he stood looking down at his former student with one thought clear in his mind: she was just too skittish to be borne. However, it wasn't until she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and began to nibble, as if she were an insipid school girl waiting to be scolded, that he let out the low growl that had been building in his chest. It rumbled from his throat as he loomed over her.

"Am I to take it that _you _are my… _date_?" He bit out the words harshly, the final of which coming out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

For a moment, Hermione sat in stunned silent before she found herself answering in a quiet, brittle voice. "As you see."

"Far be it from me to disagree with our dear friends, Ms Granger," he said as his eyes flashed viciously at her, "but they seem to have deluded themselves into believing that we would make good companions, though I am at a lost as to how they ever could have come to such a ridiculous conclusion. It is well known that I refuse to deal with fidgety fools who lack spines."

Hermione felt her breath leave her in a sudden whoosh, the shock of his statement and the sheer callousness of his tone acting as a vacuum in her chest. Tears began to prick at her eyes, but she quickly pushed them down. She was stronger than this and certainly didn't have to take such treatment from Severus Snape.

_Actually, _she thought as she quickly composed her face, _I know just how to deal with bastards like this._ Goodness knows she had come across more than a few in her day. The only reason she had reacted with such initial surprise and hurt was that she had been anticipating a friendly encounter. Which, after all, was a reasonable expectation from one's date; however, she knew better now.

With eyes tightening, Hermione straightened herself in her chair and with slow controlled movements she picked up her wine glass. Intently, she gazed at the man, her eyes raking over him in icy sweeps that had, in the past, silenced even the worst of her verbal attackers.

Severus watched as she pulled herself up, clothing herself in a calm and stoic façade that was betrayed only by the fiery glint was growing in her eyes. He knew exactly what she was trying to do. After all, he had perfected that look decades ago. There was no way he was about to be quelled by Hermione Granger. He had half a mind to turn around and march out right then and there, but he knew he could not. Remaining silent, he chose to watch as she took a sip of wine in a deliberately casual manner. It was her move, as far as he was concerned.

"Well, Mr Snape," she said with a click of her tongue, the distaste clear in her haughty tone. "I am sorry that you have such an affliction, though it would seem that you have chosen your line of work rather poorly, given that you deal with fidgety fools on a daily basis as a result of it. Furthermore, that particular fact can only lead me to assume that you either secretly enjoy the behaviour, though you profess otherwise, or that you have quite the masochistic streak. For what it is worth, I am inclined to believe the latter."

Severus rolled his eyes. She was doing nothing to endear herself to him; in fact, the swotty, holier-than-thou tone was only serving to irritate him further.

"As for myself," she continued, choosing to ignore the growing ire that was apparent on his face, "I am neither a fidgety fool nor do I lack a spine. I do concur, however, that our friends were most mistaken. If Narcissa thinks that I would _ever_ be interested in a man who cannot even get through the first minute of dinner without insulting his date, then she must be delusional. Not to mention the fact that I find the very thought of entertaining you as a romantic interest utterly ridiculous."

Hermione, pragmatic as she was, knew that her last statement wasn't strictly true. She had been willing enough to ogle the man during those first few seconds when she hadn't known his identity, but those were only physical traits. A personality, or the lack thereof, she told herself, could sour even the most appealing of physiques.

Severus winced inwardly; the identity of his date had complete leeched from his mind the fact that he had been ordered into good behaviour. The Know-It-All was a completely inappropriate as a choice for a date, but if he did not behave as he had been specifically ordered to do, then the binding magic of the forfeit would not release him. Brisling inwardly, he cursed Lucius for this perverse torment. Then, gritting his teeth, he took in a deep breath and allowed his anger to flow to the back of his mind. He would deal with Lucius later, for now he needed to get through an evening with the most irritating witch known to man.

"Be that as it may, we find ourselves here," he said, throwing himself into his chair. The swift and slightly petulant movement reminded Hermione of the way Harry and Ron would, in a fit of frustration, throw themselves into their chairs during their Hogwarts study sessions, ill-tempered and with little style. His eyes glinted harshly at the shocked gasp that escaped her as he summoned a waiter.

She watched him closely as he arranged with great ease for the first course to be served. Normally, Hermione would have baulked at a date who arranged her meal without consultation, but it was common knowledge that no one ordered at _Epine Noire;_ the chef magically selected each table's dinner according to the guests themselves. It was the top echelon of fine cuisine, and one would have to be mad to argue with the chef of such an establishment.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what the man was playing at as he did his duty as the male half of the date and arranged for the meal to begin. The sudden shift in his behaviour left her feeling wrong footed and wary. Wondering the best was to handle the dinner, she simply couldn't fathom why what reason he could possibly have for deciding to stay or why he was all of almost cordially arranging their dinner, as if it was perfectly acceptable for him to dine with her, when it obviously was not. Hermione had fully expected that after she had spoken to him with such disrespect he would turn on heel and march right out, but something had made him stay. If there was one thing Hermione had learned about Severus Snape over the years, it was that he never did anything without a reason, and this immediately put her on alert.

Hermione watched on until he had completed the final meal arrangements, and, when the two of them were once again alone, she said in a voice that was sharp but not entirely unkind, "Sir, I cannot help but notice that you have decided, for whatever reason, to continue this farce of a date. Now, as it is clear to me that you do not desire a relationship, of any form, between the pair of us, I must ask myself why you are still here. It was my understanding that Severus Snape never does frivolous things, and from what I can tell, this certainly falls into that category."

"Insufferable twit," he sputtered with a roll of his eyes, but Hermione cut him short with a return roll of her own eyes.

"Honestly," Hermione huffed with exasperation. "We have already established that you do not like me; I am an insufferable know-it-all, just as I was many years ago. You needn't continue to harp on it, the fact will remain the same whether we talk about it or not. Additionally, it does nothing to explain why you are still here." A smirk started to grow on her face, and her eyes shone with true amusement as he stared at her, his face void of expression. "Furthermore," she said, crossing her arms in front of her as she continued to push at his limits, "I have no qualms continuing behaving like the know-it-all that I am until you explain yourself, especially since it frustrates you. I do so enjoy causing you frustration. Now, there is obviously something more going on here that you are letting on. Spill."

"Damn, Lucius," he growled under his breath.

Hermione smiled, knowing that she was making progress. "So, Lucius set you up?"

Severus winced slightly. "Fine… Yes, Lucius set me up," he snapped, a malicious sneer stretching across his face.

Hermione ignored the nasty tone and searing look of hate, continuing to tease him in a completely unaffected manner. "Well, that is at least something. Though, it doesn't explain why you are still here."

"Bah, it does not matter why I am here," he bellowed suddenly, and Hermione was instantly thankful for the privacy charms around the tables. "We will eat the food," he continued to bark, "drink the wine and have minimal conversation. Then, when we have completed the meal, we will go our separate ways, never to speak of this night again. That is all that is required, and I suggest that you do so or you shall suffer the consequences." He looked at her viciously, as if daring her to contradict him.

Hermione tried to hold back the burst of laughter that suddenly filled her, but she could not. It had been sometime since Severus Snape had been her professor, and, from this angle, his caustic nature seemed rather humorous. Plus, it was clear to her that he was extremely set on not explaining his motives in staying, which only further drove her curiosity. As she laughed openly, thoroughly amused by his explosive barking of orders, he looked at her with incredulous alarm.

"The consequences, eh?" she taunted with a raised eyebrow and a saucy smirk. "You do realise that I am not one of your students to torment, right? I've long since left the halls of Hogwarts, _Professor_ Snape. What consequences would you have for me? Will billow and glare me in submission?" She grinned at him impishly.

Hermione knew very well that the man could find perfectly horrid consequences, if he really wanted to, but she also was very much aware of exactly who he was and how he had behaved in the past. The man was all bark and little bite. Beside, no matter how rough of a façade he maintained for the rest of the world, he had risked his life in order to save hers far too many times for her to truly fear him, and she suspected that was exactly why it was so easy for her to get under his skin.

He stared at her incredulously as she continued to press him for information. "Now, for the final time, why are you still here?" Hermione demanded, slamming her hand on to the table, her eyes sparkling with shrewd calculation. "There is a reason, and don't even try to deny it. You said all that is required is for us to complete the meal, and then we can go our separate ways. However, I know for a fact that I am very much free to walk out that door at any moment I choose. Nothing about this is a requirement for me; I am here by my own choice. This is not the same for you, obviously. So, spill the details. Why are you here?"

Did this inscrutable woman never stop? Gritting his teeth roughly, he swallowed the desire to savage her with words. "Merlin, woman. Must you be such a harpy?" he grumbled, not daring to allow himself to voice anything more.

"Yes, I must." Hermione smiled at him again.

"All right, fine," he spat, deciding that it would be better to just get the conversation over with as quickly as possible. Otherwise, he held little chance of getting through this date with the forfeit being fulfilled. "If you must know, yes, Lucius requires me to complete this date in a respectable manner."

"Because…" Hermione goaded. She had no doubt in her mind that he had yet to give her the whole truth.

He looked at her silently for a moment with cold, calculating eyes. Then, as he realised that she was neither relenting nor reacting to his fury, he broke the stare in defeat. Looking down at the table, he let out a long sigh. This really was not how he had wanted this date to go, confessions to self-righteous Gryffindors included. It also occurred to him that Narcissa, in her warning about not disclosing the existence of the forfeit, had failed to consider the mind of the woman they were setting him up with. There was no denying that Ms Granger was quick, if nothing else. "Because," Severus he said in a low tone, "it is a magically bound forfeit, thus allowing him to set me up on one blind-date whether I desire it or not."

Hermione snorted, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Wait, you lost a bet with Lucius Malfoy, and he is using the magical forfeit to force you to go on a date?"

He nodded, somewhat sullenly she noted.

"With me?" Incredulity flooded her voice.

He nodded again.

Though she was very amused by the situation, she did have to wonder why, of all women in the Wizarding world, Lucius Malfoy would pick her?

"Why me?" she asked sincerely.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Ms Granger," he told her. "I think he knew that, although you technically meet all my usual requirements for what I look for in a date, your ability to grate on my every last nerve far surpasses any others. Now, as we have completed my humiliation, can we move onto some other topic?" He huffed out a breath and then took a large gulp of wine. It was both uncouth and very out of character for him.

Hermione sat stunned for a moment as she considered exactly what he meant by saying that she met his date criteria. She really didn't care about the irritating him part; she'd always irritated him and guessed she always would, but meeting his criteria, however, was certainly intriguing.

"Oh, no. That is not going to happen," she said as a small thrill ran through her. _This is too good to pass up._ "You have to tell me; what was the bet?"

"I am not continuing this conversation," he snarled, his expression instantly turning nasty.

"No, no, no, what was the bet?" she pressed him, paying no mind to that fact that he had once again found a firm hold on his anger. She was far too amused that she had got the better of Severus Snape, even if for only a second, to have any mercy on the poor sod now.

"The bet, Mr Snape," she demanded with a brilliant smile, "or I will walk out of here and make it abundantly clear that you behaved abominably toward me in my report to Narcissa." It was her final card, she knew, but she had to try.

This drew him up short. For a second, he allowed himself to be surprised at her audacity. He had no idea that the Princess of the Golden Trio would try blackmailing him. She had apparently grown up and learned a thing or two about the world. However, he was the King of Slytherin tactics, and there was no way he could ever be out Slytherined by a Gryffindor, even if she was the most brilliant witch of her age. As he felt his irritation fall down a notch, he always had enjoyed a good back and forth with someone who wasn't an imbecile, he decided that perhaps he could play along for awhile, after all this was a date. With that idea in mind, a smirk began to grow on his face.

"As amusing as that would be," he drawled, an eyebrow rising, "I shall simply inform them of the truth: That, once I recovered from my fit of temper, I graciously begged your apologies and then proceeded to behave as an ideal dinner companion. I do believe I even went so far as to inquire as to your profession, and the conversation that followed could be called nothing but polite."

"The magic will know if you are lying," Hermione said with obvious suspicion.

"Who says that I will be lying?" His voice turned suddenly smooth, and he flashed a rakish grin at her. Severus knew that he'd succeeding in cornering the unruly woman as he watched her eyes go wide with confusion. "Ms Granger," he purred as he quickly reached across the table and swiped up her hand. "Please accept my humblest apologies for my behaviour this evening. I am well known for my temper, true, but it was poorly done of me to take it out on you."

A speechless Hermione gaped at him, her eyes darting from the odd smile on his face, to their joined hands upon the tabletop. Her eyes, wild with astonishment, looked rather owlish as an involuntary smile began to grow on her face. There was something about the combination of his apology, which, though sounding sincere, she knew was meant sarcastically, and the boyish grin on his face. It was so unlike Snape, yet, in that moment, it fit so perfectly on him that she felt laughter begin to build in her for a second time that evening. Then, a small giggle escaped, and once the dam had broken she descended into full fit of hysterical laughter. Tears pricked at her eyes, and her cheeks flushed with the hilarity of the situation. With a quick squeeze to his hand, she gave him a quick nod of assent.

"All right, then, Mr Potions Master, have it your way," Hermione said as she took several long calming breaths. "Oh, Merlin! I haven't had such a great laugh in ages."

Severus quirked his head to the side and watched as she composed herself. He realised now that he really didn't know what to make of the odd witch. She was unlike any other woman he'd met.

"Though, remember, the magic will know," she said, drawing him from his contemplation of her.

"Indeed, it will," he agreed.

~oOOOo~


	4. In Losing He Wins Part Two

_A/N: Thanks for your patience guys! I was beat yesterday and so when I hit that lull in the chapter I figured I'd just post what I had ready and get the rest posted today. I did promise to post on Friday, and if I promise something, I do like to try and keep it! Hope you enjoy the rest of the date! :P FYI - We're about half way through this fic. It is a total of about 20k words and is completely finished. So stay tuned...~Meladara~_

_As always Laralee88 and Sixpence Jones knock my socks off! :P They are betas extraordinaire!_

* * *

Severus watched as Hermione refilled her glass of wine and again began to take small sips, and then he asked in a tone that was frightening in its niceness, "Now tell me, Ms Granger, what do you do by profession?"

Hermione took in a startled breath just as she swallowed and had to quickly set down her wine glass as she coughed and sputtered in disbelief. "Y-You're serious?" she asked as she made dabs at her mouth with her napkin.

He let out a small breath of exasperation. "Woman, I said as much, and I never ask frivolous questions. So, if I asked you, it stands to reason that I desire an answer. Have you broken that brain of yours with your foolish nattering?"

For a brief moment, Hermione considered exactly how she wanted to answer this question. She could answer generally, with little to no detail, as she would her usual dates, and it would serve the man right after how he had behaved. However, there was something inside her that stopped. She knew that behaving in such a manner wouldn't get her where she wanted to go; not that really had any idea of where that was. When she considered the fact that Severus Snape was a man who had intrigued her for years and that she would really like to know what made him tick, despite his generally appalling behaviour, she knew that generalities were not the best course.

"Okay, okay," she relented. "If you really want to know… By profession I do two things. I am the Head Coordinator of Operations at Nym's House Orphanage. I won't be so daft as explain the operation, because I know you are aware of exactly what Nym's House does, except to say that it is where I met and became friends with Narcissa, who is under the impression that I work too much and in need of a night of fun." The look on her face told him that she was certainly questioning Narcissa's idea of fun.

"My duties there range from tending to the children, to taking care of personnel issues, to arranging the daily operation of the orphanage itself. It is my passion and my heart, and I would gladly devote the rest of my life to those children. However, charity work does not pay the bills and in order to do that, my second profession takes the form of Lead Arithmancy Consultant for Malfoy Industries. I manage all of the Master-level financial and magical Arithmancy equations for them. The subjects of which run the gamut from Muggle stock-market fluctuations, to experimental potions ingredient reactions, and even magical evaluations on the experimental charms used in the growth of magical and Muggle plants. I work with them on a per diem basis. But if it involves Arithmancy, then I am the one organizing it for them."

Severus was impressed. He knew that she was involved with the orphanage; he'd heard Narcissa speak of her on several occasions, but to be skilled enough to run Arithmancy calculations for Malfoy Industries… Well, he knew that Lucius must trust Ms Granger a great deal, and though he was using her to poke fun at Severus' easily irritated manner, he probably respected her a lot as well. "And do you enjoy you work?" he continued. His eyes looked shockingly interested as he asked the blatantly bland question.

Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Never took you as one for small talk, Mr Snape. As inane as the question is… I suppose I enjoy it as much as anyone can enjoy Arithmancy. It pays well, and I am good at it."

"Indeed. Arithmancy is a tool, a map to other magics. Though I suppose there is some excitement and joy to be found in the solving of a particularly challenging equation, in the end all you have is a piece of paper."

"Exactly, so I use Arithmancy to pay the bills and pour my energy into bettering the lives of those who need it the most."

"It is an admirable sentiment. It is also a reflection of your capability that you've been entrusted with such important calculations by one as galleon conscientious as Lucius Malfoy. It says a lot to those who know him," he said in a markedly sincere tone that startled both of them.

"Thank you," she replied with quiet surprise, a light blush tingeing her cheeks. Even after all these years, she was surprised to find the need for his approval to be as poignant and as strong as it had been when she was fifteen. What she finally looked up at him, pushing her slight embarrassment away, she asked, "What about you? You teach, I know that. Why? What makes Mr Snape tick now that he is no longer saving the arse of a naive oaf and his friends?"

"Naive oaf, eh?" Severus queried.

"Oh, don't you even think you can turn the conversation back to me or my friends," she quipped playfully, her eyes catching his, which sent a spark of attraction through her that left her stomach flipping lightly. "I know those tactics, and they won't work. Tit for tat, sir. This is a date, and, as such, you are required to share."

Severus stared into her eyes for a moment, and then as she shook her head to add emphasis to her words, he took in her flush cheeks and listened to how she was happily nagging him, as if it were completely normal and acceptable. He didn't want to admit it, but suddenly, in that instant, she didn't seem so irritating to him anymore. Perhaps it wasn't so odious to give her a sincere answer, because, really, if there was anyone in this world that could appreciate where he had come from and what he had gone through, it was Hermione Granger. She was smart and, at the very least, knew his history better than any other date he had encountered.

Hermione was altogether surprised and unnerved at the turn the evening seemed to be taking. After she had asked her question, he had looked into her eyes with an intensity that she could feel in her bones, and then he actually gave her a real answer. It wasn't anything earth-shattering, simply that he enjoyed brewing and reading in his free time, which was very little during the school year, and that, in the summers since the end of the war, he had tried to do as little as possible as he'd had precious little time to relax in the past twenty years. But it was the truth. It wasn't posturing or vague, it was an honest-to-goodness straight answer. It was an answer that she could greatly appreciate, understand, and even admire. And it left her altogether speechless.

His breath felt weak and hollow in his chest as he completed his reply to her. Severus was stunned and trying very much to hide it. He had not expected it to be so easy to share that answer, and true it wasn't a deep revelation, but still, it had been completely sincere, which was far more than most of his dates got.

When he had initially realised who his date was, he had been completely appalled. She was the female member of the Golden Trio; there was no way he could ever be interested in her. But, once they had both got over their initial surprise, and then she had proven that she could keep up with conversationally, his appall had faded. And when that had happened, all that there was left for him to do was to acknowledge and admire how expressive her eyes were. He couldn't help by please that her hair, though curly, was still very successfully playing the tantalizing game of hide-and-seek with the pale skin of her neck. No, he had not been interested in the woman romantically, but now, perhaps he could allow himself the leeway that maybe he was wrong in his initial reaction. After all, it wasn't Hermione's fault that Lucius had chosen her to torment him. If there was anyone who deserved his censure, it was not Hermione, but Lucius. And Lucius would pay; he would make sure of that.

~oOOOo~

As they stood in the foyer of the restaurant readying themselves to leave, Hermione once again breached the topic that had been left behind much earlier in the evening. "So, last chance to tell me what the bet was," she teased with ease, the tension of earlier long since forgotten. "I could always ask Narcissa, you know."

"And I do believe that you will find Narcissa is completely in the dark as to the nature of the bet as well. Suffice it to say, Ms Granger," he said as amusement danced in his eyes, "that you will never find out what the bet was. However, I must say that it was not so odious that I lost, in the end. Tonight has been more entertaining than I thought possible."

"I had a lovely time as well, sir. Though, I do wish you would call me Hermione," she told him, gathering up her cloak.

"Hermione, then," he purred as he helped her into the fur-lined cloak. When it was settled into place and fastened, he ran his hand softly down her covered arms.

Hermione shivered under his touch, and when she turned to face him, she saw the familiar knowing smirk that rested on his lips. Choosing to ignore it, she asked, "Do you think we can leave from here? I'd rather not have to try and make it to the Apparition point in this weather."

He turned to look out the window. The snow was still coming down in large flakes. The drift on the ground lay at least two feet thick.

"I do believe that would be acceptable, unless, of course, the Gryffindor know-it-all has not the ability to Apparate silently."

Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a delicate snort. "Thanks for that, I can see your confidence in my abilities shining through." Then, with a shake of her head, she smiled once again and extended her hand toward him. "Well…?"

Severus' heart suddenly ached as he looked at the striking woman extending her hand to him with such a trusting and open expression. As he took up the proffered hand with his fingertip and gently turned it so that he could place a soft, lingering kiss on the back, he told himself he was not behaving in such a manner because she was rather beautiful and had been an enchanting dinner companion that had completely disarmed him. No, he internally scoffed, this was simply his last chance to mess with the witch's head and that was all. He wasn't attracted to her at all, and it would not do to allow their date to end without keeping her on her toes the entire time.

As his eyes purposefully met hers, he smiled wickedly. Hermione was blushing a beautiful rose. Idly, he noted that it stretched from her cheeks all the way down to the front of her dress, where it disappeared from view. "Now, I will bid you good evening, Hermione," he purred, low and tantalizingly, before releasing her hand and spinning away in silent Apparation.

"Show off," Hermione said breathlessly into the empty space where he had been standing only moments before, her stomach still fluttering with excitement and heart still pounding. Then, pulling her cloak about her, she too spun silently into the night.

~oOOOo~


	5. The Ultimate Prize

**A/N: Here is the next chapter, as promised! I do so hope you enjoy it! There are two more chapters to come after this. Please, let me know what you think! :)  
**

**~Meladara~**

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter Four – The Ultimate Prize

_"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy_

~oOOOo~

Hermione sat in front of her little Christmas tree with a cup of cocoa in hand and looked out at the sparkling morning. The crystalline snow and ice coating the world gave everything a dreamlike feel. The storm that had pounded the world for the last three days had finally run its course and was treating the whole of London to a picture perfect Christmas morning. As a tear slipped down her cheek, she remembered her Christmases past, ones that she had shared with her parents and friends. This Christmas morning, however, Hermione found herself utterly alone, and she had to wonder where it all had gone so wrong.

It wasn't as if she didn't have anyone in the world, Hermione knew she did, but it was as if there were a wall between herself and everyone else. She was acutely aware that her parents, though now aware of her existence, were simply happier without her around; magic made them very nervous and she could see the lack of trust in their eyes when she visited. As for her friends, Ronald wasn't an option, given the messy break-up, and Harry and Ginny were too wrapped up in their lives together to notice that Hermione was drowning in her own. Not that she could blame them. She's do the same if she could find a love like Ginny and Harry's. That was the full sum of her friends. There was no one else. Minerva was a mentor but hardly a friend, and Molly more of a surrogate mother than anything else. However, Molly's status as Ronald's mother prevented Hermione spending time with her on this day.

Standing and picking up the few gifts that lay under her tree, Hermione carried them to the sofa. Wrapping herself in a warm blanket, she began the solemn and lonely process of opening her gifts.

From the young Potters she had received a gift basket of products from a popular Wizarding spa. Her parents had sent her a portrait of themselves in a lovely frame and a box of Swiss chocolates, most likely from their latest holiday. From Molly she received yet another jumper, and from Minerva she had a new journal.

Hermione sighed, frustrated with herself. She had no reason to feel so glum. There was nothing wrong with these gifts; they were lovely. So what if she was alone and no one cared to invite her to share in their Christmas morning? If the gifts smacked of obligation and left her a little sick to her stomach, she only had herself to blame. It had been her own actions that had created this busy, closed off life, which left no time for developing or maintaining meaningful relationships. Hell, she was so busy that she too had put little thought into the gifts she'd given out this year.

But still, Hermione was alone on Christmas and she couldn't help but wonder why that was. Was there no one in her life that understood her? Was there no one who could enjoy her for who she truly was? She didn't want to have to manufacture interests to keep friendships. For a moment, the face of Severus Snape, as he had looked the night before, flashed before her eyes. Shaking her head, Hermione pushed away the memory of the previous evening's date. It was likely that she wouldn't see him again for months, if not years, despite the fact that they'd seemed to have a fun time together. There was no point in thinking about the potential between two such like-minded people. Not that she was interested, because she wasn't. What did it matter that he was dashingly handsome and had made her go weak in the knees? Besides, she felt for certain that he wasn't interested in her either. Or at least, that is what she told herself.

Hermione sighed as she walked to her bedroom to put away her gifts. Looking down at them as she placed them on her bed, she saw the gifts for what they were, impersonal transactions that reflected the decay of her life. She really meant nothing to these people, not in the way that she had once wanted to. They couldn't really be blamed either, she'd shut them out as surely as they had her. But after all, it was Christmas, and anyone spending that day alone was entitled to at least a little wallowing.

~oOOOo~

Severus sat at his dingy kitchen table sipping coffee. He knew Narcissa would be there soon to ensure that he made his appearance at the traditional Malfoy Christmas brunch. She had been doing so for the last 22 years, and he knew she wouldn't be stopping anytime soon. He also knew that he would be expected to stay for the rest of the day and to attend the evening ball; she had already insinuated as much in her letter a few days ago. This year he was sure Christmas with the Malfoys would be sure to include a smug Lucius, who would undoubtedly make irritating inquiries into the success of the date, and the unwanted advances from one Prudence Parkinson.

Severus shuddered as the image of Ms Parkinson flooded him. The trollish woman was nearly as tall as him with thick limbs that made him wonder if her ancestry was a pure as it was professed to be. He'd long since held the belief that someone on her maternal side had mated with a giant or troll. Additionally, the woman had absolutely no sense of taste or tact, and, for one with as sensitive a nose as he had, she perfumed-soaked presence was completely unbearable.

_Ms Granger, on the other hand…_he thought before he could stop himself. Putting down his cup, he rested his head in his hands. With a mind full of frustration, he realised suddenly what a difference a day could make. Last night, he had initially disliked her, but if he were being honest with himself, the dislike he'd initially felt wasn't something he could put any stock in. He would have disliked his date no matter what her identity. However, after she had bit back with sharp words and then continued on to teased him with ease, the dislike had turned to interest. Despite himself, he couldn't ignore the delight he had felt over the course of the evening. It had left him completely surprised, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad. He rarely found pleasure in the company of others, especially beautiful and unabashedly smart woman. As he recalled her words, he realised that she had seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him. She had made it abundantly clear that she was there by her own choice, and that fact intrigue him.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he stood and strode to the sink and washed his cup. Severus knew that today, despite being Christmas, would hold no such pleasing prospects for him. He would spend the majority of his evening in the company of meddling friends and doing his best to avoid a woman who was the antithesis of Ms Hermione Granger.

Resigned to his fate for now, he quickly ran upstairs to dress for brunch. Narcissa would be arriving soon to fetch him as she always did, and she'd never forgive him for making her late to her own brunch. Though she would deny it until the end of her days, Narcissa Malfoy adored over-mothering him almost as much as Molly Weasley did Harry Potter.

With a small vicious smirk, he remembered that he had a bit of revenge to plan for Lucius' little trick. Using Slytherin tactics to win a bet was one thing, and, honestly, he'd expected as much from his friend. However, using the bet to forcing him into a blind date was crossing a line. Add to it that Lucius had clearly set up the date as a source of ridicule and it brought the need for payback to an all new level. After all, Lucius would have no way of knowing that he had actually enjoyed the company he had provided.

~oOOOo~

Hermione stood at the top of the grand staircase that led down into the ballroom at Malfoy Manor. She wasn't fully comfortable with high society events, though Narcissa had assured her that she looked more than presentable.

Narcissa's house-elf, Linky, had appeared in her living room just after lunch and had whisked her off to Malfoy Manor in order to dress her for the ball. It was very unsettling how Narcissa seemed to run roughshod over her with ease. It appeared, to Hermione, that she had been adopted as the matron of the Malfoy family's newest project. It didn't matter one bit to Narcissa that Hermione had been in the midst of a champion wallowing session. She had simply tutted at Hermione for her lack of gaiety and then forced her to endure hours of preparation for a ball that Hermione really would rather not attend.

Hermione carefully made her way down into the ballroom, resigned to her fate, and took in the sight of her first Malfoy Christmas Ball. It was magnificent. Fairy-lights filled the room with an intimate glow, while an invisible orchestra played a tune that was full of low and haunting, but yet still tantalising, tones. The guests, all dressed in opulent gowns and robes, brought to her mind images of what balls might have been like in ages long since past.

As her eyes grazed over the guests around the room, looking to see if she knew many people there, she spied the intense face of Severus Snape staring back at her. Her breath caught as she felt her face begin to flush. It hadn't even occurred to her that he would be attending the ball. Thinking about it now, it had been extremely dull of her not to make that connection. It made complete sense that he would be here; he was practically an honorary member of the Malfoy family, from what Narcissa said. Surely he attended most of the Malfoy galas.

~oOOOo~

Severus looked up from where he was standing, currently hiding from the pursuit of Ms Parkinson and his eyes froze in shock. Hermione Granger was standing at the top of the stairs looking down into the ballroom, her face a mix of wonder and apprehension. Her appearance had Narcissa Malfoy written all over it, from the obviously expensive gown, to the awed but slightly brown beaten look. However, that was only a small thought in the back of his mind as he took in the alluring sight of her. She was clothed in a shimmering gown of silver silk that hugged her curves, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would slide tantalisingly over her skin when she finally chose to move. Her hair, which the previous evening had been up in a messy knot, was now flowing down her back in long curls, which were both wild and elegant at the same time. He felt his blood drain from his face as she began to move down the grand staircase in slow measured steps, silk shifting against skin, looking as regal as any queen.

_My queen_, he thought with possessiveness before mentally castigating himself for his ridiculousness. He didn't know what it was exactly about the witch, but she certainly held the potential to make him lose his head. There hadn't been someone capable of making him do that for years, decades even. As Severus started to step toward her without thought, unconsciously aiming his steps so that he would meet her at the bottom of the staircase, a shrill voice made him falter.

"Sevvie, dear. Oh, Sevvie," he heard a woman call, and he visibly winced.

Prudence Parkinson had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember, and, to make matters worse, he was currently in negotiations with her father in regards to funding for some very exciting Potions research. Thus making it necessary for him to treat her in at least a temperate manner, and not with the vengeful savagery his heart so longed for. As he could neither indulge himself in eviscerating her nor he believe himself capable of treating her temperately, he had chosen concealment as his main weapon this evening. His strategy had worked for the majority of the early evening festivities, but now that the ball was beginning, it appeared that his luck had just run out.

Despite the harpy's call, his eyes remained firmly locked on Hermione, who was now a third of the way down the stairs. She was too far down the staircase for him to meet her at the bottom. He let out a low growl.

_No matter_, he reminded himself, _I might as well take care of the parasite first._ In a flash, his hand darted out and grabbed the arm of Ms Parkinson. Tearing his eyes away from the enchantress on the stairs, he pulled the garish woman to his side and gave her a malicious glare, the cold hate seeping from every part of him. "I have told you time and time again, Ms Parkinson," he spat, his acidic tone dripping with anger, "I am not _anything _to you. You will cease and desist this nonsense immediately."

Severus spun on his heel and took a step toward Hermione, but he felt two hands wrap around his arm to stop his progress. His eyes, flashing with a volatile combination of irritation and possessiveness, focused again on Hermione's position across the room. She was just stepping off the final stair and into the arms of his godson.

Severus suddenly saw red as irrational anger flooded him. It didn't matter that he knew Draco was madly in love with his wife, or that there was a leech of a woman trying to get his attention, Hermione was his and they were keeping her from him. Roughly, he tried to shake off the grasp of Ms Parkinson, but she was holding on too tight. _Damn, troll woman_, he thought as he cruelly muttered a Confundus charm that whipped from his wand and caused the insipid witch to stumble back. As he felt her fingers loosen and then fall away, he strode with determination across the room with one purpose in mind.

~oOOOo~

At the foot of the stairs Hermione was met by a smug Draco Malfoy. With a rolled of her eyes, she smiled and took his arm. Draco had been assigned as her escort until the ball was well underway by his mother. Luckily, Hermione knew his wife did not mind in the least as she was currently being twirled around the room in the arms of her father-in-law.

"I really can handle myself, Draco." Hermione told him quietly.

"Of course you can, Hermione. But you know Mother, and we all must do our best to make her happy," he said wryly as Hermione let out a delicate snort.

Draco raised an eyebrow as led her out onto the dance floor. "Very ladylike, Granger."

"Oh, shut it, ferret," she countered.

"What I really want to know, though," he drawled conspiratorially as he spun her into a formal dancing hold, "is why Uncle Severus hasn't taken his eyes off you since you stepped into the room. I know all about how my parents set you two up."

"I don't know what you are talking about, Draco," Hermione replied with an annoyed huff. "Now please, stop pestering me and dance."

"Whatever. See for yourself," he said as he nodded toward the man in question, who was currently approaching the dancing couple with an unnervingly possessive look on his face.

Hermione's breath caught again as she turned and found her eyes locking with those of Severus Snape. Her feet faltered, stopping mid-step.

"Happy Christmas, Uncle," Draco said, his face sporting an insultingly knowing look. Before either could respond, Hermione felt her hand lift and it being deposited into the grasp of her former professor. "If you'll excuse me; I believe I need to attend to my wife." With that, Draco was gone, and Severus was left looking down in surprise at the hand that his godson had just placed into his.

He looked down in wonder at the small hand in his and found that his wild anger with his godson was fading as quickly as it had appeared. Turning his eyes to Hermione's, he gave her a small bow and said in a low voice, "Ms Granger."

Hermione's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she responded with a small curtsey. "Mr Snape."

Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for them to do, he glanced in the direction of couples dancing around them and asked, "Shall we dance?"

Hermione nodded mutely, not quite sure how she had ended up in this man's arms. Not knowing what else to do and unable to voice a response, she found herself letting him pull her into his arms and guide her across the dance floor. His hand was tight against her waist, pressing into her silk-covered flesh with a searing heat. She could feel the warmth of his body rolling over her in waves as his fingers flexed in order to guide her intuitively through the correct steps of the dance. His eyes, intense orbs that never left her face as they burned into her, caused her to shiver in his arms.

Hermione stared up at him entranced as around and around the room they danced. All at once, they were both in time with the music while staying completely oblivious to the people around them. For those magical minutes they moved in harmony, each breath and step flowing into a picture of perfection. They simply danced with the deep understanding that this person before them was someone who, beyond all odds, stirred something within them that no one else could.

As the song began to wind down, Severus suddenly turned off the dance floor and led them through the crowd and down into a hall, his hand firmly wrapped around Hermione's. Breathless from dancing and the intensity of whatever had just passed between them, she blithely allowed him to guide her out of the public rooms and into the private portion of Malfoy Manor.

It wasn't until Hermione found them standing in the familiar setting of Narcissa Malfoy's private sitting room that she came out of her daze. Looking up at the man towering with his fiery eyes, she noted that the Christmas tree lent an otherworldly look about him as the fairy-lights left a halo like glow around him.

He pulled Hermione to him, one hand snaking around her small waist and the other sliding delicately along her neck as he purred into her ear, "You are so beautiful, Hermione. Perfect, perfect, Hermione." She shivered under his touch and at his words, melting into the embrace.

Without waiting for any further response, he pressed his lips to hers in a frantic, passion-filled kiss. Their teeth knocked and lips burned from the sheer intensity as they kissed with wild abandon. His hard body pressed into hers; the full contact driving all thought from the both of them. Nothing else mattered any longer. Here in this fairy-lit lit room there was no Ms Parkinson, no parents who'd rejected you, no world that ridiculed or friends that ignored. Together, in this passion filled moment, the world had collapsed around them into a fury of tasting lips and caressing hands.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed there, locked in the magical haze with their lips pressing and hands wandering enticingly about the other, instinctively seeking to draw out new gasps of delight from the person in their arms. Time lost all meaning, as did breath and thought. Eventually, they drew apart with obviously reluctance, the necessity to breathe, no longer ignorable.

Hermione panted lightly as she clung, weak-kneed, to the dark man. With sudden clarity, she knew deep inside that this would be one of those timeless moments in her life, one that would etch itself into her heart for all eternity. Never again would a first kiss be held to the standard of Ronald Weasley. No. She had tasted perfection and was indelibly changed

Silence reigned between them as they slowly came down from the high. Still, he held her close, and as she looked at him she could see no resistance or regret. With a small smile, Hermione lifted herself up to her tip toes and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips.

"Hermione," he rasped, his voice raw, "I do apologize but I must leave you now. I have a prior business commitment that I must attend to. I fear I am already late; however, I will return. It should not take long, but it cannot be neglected, no matter how delightful a prospect you make."

Hermione pouted as he leaned down to place a light kiss on the puckered bottom lip, and then giving it a small nip, he said, "I will see you again soon."

As Hermione gave him a small nod of understanding, they simultaneously released their hold on the other and slid apart. Their eyes locked for a moment as their mutual amazement of what had just happened passed between them. Then, with a curt nod, he turned and walked away. He never looked back, but as he left the room, she heard him purr out, his voice shallow and rough, "Until we meet again, Ms Granger."


	6. From Mistaken Actions to Absolute Joy

**A/N: Sorry. I'm a day late! I tried to get this chapter all ready for posting yesterday, but between the three kids being ridiculously loud and me pining like a school girl for a man I can't have, well I didn't get anywhere. All in all, my friday night was rather glum. But, today is a new day and luck is with me. So, here is the next chapter. Just one more after this. Well, unless I decide to write up the extra little scene (a flashback) that keeps playing my head. We'll see. ;)**

**Happy Reading and Reviewing!**

**~Meladara~**

**_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter Five – From Mistaken Actions to Absolute Joy

_"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy_

~oOOOo~

Never in her life had Hermione Granger ever entertained the idea of taking mini-holidays. Neither had she ever given thought to where such a thing could take her. But as Hermione sat and peered at her surroundings, a smile graced her face while her head shook with disbelief. If she had been surprised by the week last summer at the French Château, then she was absolutely stunned to find herself drinking tea on the veranda of an opulent Spanish villa on Valentine's Day weekend. It was everything she could have ever wished for: rustic, with curved edges that highlighted the Moorish roots of the area, while still affording every magical luxury she could have imagined and quite a few that she hadn't. What did not surprise her, however, was that she was once again prisoner to the whims of her cunning friend. Though, there would always be a disbelieving part of her that was continually astonished by her friendship with Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione had been commandeered by her socialite friend the previous day. Narcissa had, not for the first time, pointed out that the witch was working herself to the bones and insisted Hermione needed a break. Hermione hadn't put up much of a fight, to be honest, partially because she knew that Narcissa wouldn't be deterred by her protests, and partially, because she wholeheartedly agreed. She had been working herself raw since Christmas and knew it was time for her to take a serious look at her reasons for doing so.

That fateful night had haunted her dreams since the ball, though she still didn't quite understand what had gone wrong or why what had gone right had touched her so deeply. After Severus left her, Hermione had made her way back into the ballroom to await his return. While waiting for him to conclude his business, she had passed the time dancing with the gentlemen who asked her. It had been a pleasant enough way to pass the time, and although she wasn't really interested in dancing with anyone other than Severus, it seemed rather rude to her to turn the men down. After two hours of waiting, he had yet to return, and she couldn't help wonder if she had misjudged the situation in some way. However, she had reassured herself that there was no way one could mistake what had passed between them and continued her patient watch. Reasoning to herself that perhaps his business had not gone as planned, and he had been detained. It wasn't until the final hour of the ball that she felt her hope dissolve into unease and irritation, and she found she could no dance longer.

It was as Hermione stood watching what would be the last dance of the night that she had finally caught a glimpse of the back of him across the room. As she watched the man she desired, the reason for his absence became apparent. On his arm was a towering blonde in a garish red dress. She wasn't a beauty in any sense, all thick-limbed and horse-faced, but, nevertheless, Hermione's hopes were dashed. Then, just as Hermione started to turn away in order to flee, the mystery woman looked back and Hermione could not help but notice the possessiveness that flashed in her eyes. The message she was sending to the other women in the room way clear: _Hands off, he's mine_.

Hermione had barely managed to hold back her tears in view of the other guests, but they had come eventually. In the privacy of her flat as she collapsed fully dressed onto her bed and wept, she vowed to never speak to the vile, manipulative man again. It was not worth the pain to risk her heart for such a thoughtless beast.

After her break up with Ron, Hermione had shut down emotionally. It had been a matter of self-preservation. She relied on her work at the charity to shore herself up, because it was safe there, no one there would question her about her former relationship with Ron. However, this subsequent rejection from Severus Snape only served to solidify the walls that she had been building around herself, taking them from merely protective to near impenetrable and leaving the relationship in her life further neglected. Something had shifted in her that night, leaving her feeling unworthy and depressed, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not recapture the spark of life she'd once felt.

Thus it was that Hermione had lived, throwing every bit of energy she had into her work in order to buffer the pain. With manic determination, she spent each and every free moment she had at the orphanage until Narcissa had forced her away.

Narcissa had watched the young, vibrant witch turn inward, and she couldn't help but wonder what or who had wounded her so. Initially, she had thought that Severus may have something to do with it, after having watched them dance at the ball she had thought that they were getting somewhere, but it had all come to naught. Then, of course, there was the fact that the taciturn man was having nothing to do with his friends at the moment, so she couldn't be completely sure what had happened, if anything. However, it hurt her to see Hermione wasting away with grief, closing off from the world even more than before. She had allowed Hermione the time to get herself sorted, and then, when Hermione had finally gone from true pain to sulking, Narcissa had done what she did best. She had walked into the orphanage and demanded, in her most imperialistic tone, that Hermione come with her for the weekend.

~oOOOo~

Hermione let out a sigh as she thought about the hole of depression that she had dug for herself. Then the sound of the steps approaching brought her from her reflections. Thinking that Narcissa was back from her trip into the local village, Hermione took a deep breath and turned in her chair to greet her friend but was surprised to find herself staring into the face of one very surprised Severus Snape.

"What are you doing here?" he cried in shock as his feet froze.

Hermione's shock a seeing him quickly turned to ire as she glared at him with cold and emotionless eyes, all the while her heart aching. What was he doing here? She was supposed to be able to try and heal herself this weekend, not do further damage.

Wordlessly, Hermione sat down her tea cup and stood. Squaring her shoulders, she sent him an icy look and then moved to brush past him, but his hand darted out and wrapped around her arm tightly, pulling her to a stop. Still facing away from him, she rolled her eyes at his roughness.

_Typical_, she thought.

"Do not ignore me, Ms Granger," he growled.

Bringing her eyes up to his, she looked at him icily and replied in a sarcastic tone, "All right, Mr Snape, since you've asked so nicely." Jerking her arm from his grasp, she took a step back and turned to face him full on.

"I am here by Narcissa's invitation, if you must know," she said hotly. "Not that it is really any of your business. Now, if you will excuse me."

Again, Hermione moved to walk past him, but he stopped her. She looked down at the hand that was wrapped around her arm for a second time and sighed.

"Not so fast, witch," Severus said in a low growl. "There are matters that need to be discussed."

Anger flared to life in Hermione. _How dare he? _"Fine," she spat bitterly, "have it your way. What would you like to discuss, Mr Snape?"

"What I would like, Ms Granger," he said in a caustic tone that caused her to shrink away from him, "is an explanation as to your behaviour at the Christmas ball."

Hermione was stunned speechless as her mind roared, _My behaviour? He has the gall to question __**my**_ _behaviour? _She would not or could not understand what he could possibly be talking about.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I haven't the slightest idea of what you are referring to, sir. However, if you would like to talk about behaviour, I would be most happy to point out that I have several grievances to take up with you concerning your own behaviour."

Severus rolled his eyes but ignored her words. He really didn't care what grievances she had against him, and he'd done nothing wrong that night. She on the other hand... Growling out in a voice that grew angrier with each word, "Now, what I would like to know is why a woman I had most clearly put a claim on early in that evening felt it appropriate to dance and flirt openly with every other man in the hall?"

Hermione blanched as he spat out his question with hurt and anger in his eyes. She couldn't find breath to speak and still was no closer to understanding what he meant. Yes, she had danced with other men, but flirt? No. What had he expected her to do? It was a ball, after all.

She stood gaping for a moment. Then as the words came to her, she could not help but feel her heart twist and twinge with pain.

"How dare you?" she bit out. "You seriously expect me to believe that you are angry because I danced with other men, at a ball, while I was unescorted. I waited for you for hours. FOR HOURS!"

Hermione stepped back from him, burning with anger. Her hands clenched into fists as she glared at him. "You were _not _my date, Severus Snape; furthermore, you have no claim on me. Yes, we kissed, quite passionately, too, but you have no claim on me."

As Hermione cried out these words a wry voice in her mind pointed out the salient fact that he very well did have a claim on her heart and that she was rather dishonest with herself to argue with him on that point, but she didn't care, it was the principle of the thing. She would not be cowed and caged by any man, claims or not.

"Additionally," she continued, her voice growing thick with emotion as she tried to hold back the hurt that had been bottled up inside her for so long, "while it is touching that you think you have some claim on me, Mr Snape, I find it sincerely difficult to believe as I witnessed, with my own eyes, your departure with another woman at the end of the ball." Her voice shook and then broke as tears began to fill her eyes. "And let me tell you," she took in a deep breath in a desperate effort to hold back a sob, "it was clear from the look she sent the room that you belonged to her. So, if you are going to come at me with claims, sir, then you must truly think me simple. And believe me, I am not." With that, Hermione stormed away, the doors leading into the interior of the villa slamming behind her and tears streaming down her face.

Severus stood frozen in place as the weight of her words washed over him. She waited for hours? He'd watched her dance. However, a wry voice in his head pointed out that she hadn't entertained any particular person all night. He was still angry with her, yes. It hurt to see a woman who'd been in his arms to go so willingly into so many others, but it was held back by something. She was so obviously affected by what happened that night; Hermione's pain was difficult to miss.

As he began to pace back and forth on the veranda, he mumbled to himself, "Where ever did she get that impression. I didn't leave—" His feet froze as the realisation hit him; he knew what she had witnessed. Then, before he knew was he was doing, he was tearing through the doors, in pursuit of Hermione.

~oOOOo~

Hermione ran up the stairs, wiping away tears and stifling sobs. She had to get out of there, out of this house. There was no way that she would be able to find peace here now. It would do her better to just go home and regroup.

The man wasn't worth it. He was harsh and manipulative and only wanted to control her. He couldn't love her, couldn't make her happy. But as silent sobs continued to rack her, she knew she could not hold back the heartbreak any longer. For nearly two months she had been repressing it, and the sudden appearance of Severus Snape in her life was proving to be too much. As she turned the corner, Hermione collapsed against the wall, her knees giving way, she crumpled to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, she gasped out a small wail before allowing a wave of sobs to overtake her.

That was how he found her, curled in a ball, shaking, with tears streaming down her face. He stood for a moment, not quite sure what his next move should be, but then before he could think, he was moving.

Hermione yelped as she felt a hand slip under her knees and behind her back as he pick her up in a single swoop, as if she weighed nothing at all. Looking up, she saw the face of Severus Snape scowling fiercely ahead.

"Whaa!" She shrieked as her fist pounded at his chest. "Put me down. Now."

His only response was to tighten his arms around her and continue his trek down the hall. She heard the sound of a door opening as he brought her into a room. Then, as the sound of the door slamming echoed around them, he walked to the bed and roughly threw her down.

"Now, Hermione you've had your fit and you've had your say. It is time for you to listen to me," he spat.

Hermione, in stunned fascination at his behaviour, looked around the room he had taken her to and realised that it was most likely his own. Struggling to sit up, she felt his hands press at her shoulders and force her back onto her back. Then he further surprised her by deftly climbing over her and lying down next to her. As they lie face to face, his hand holding her tightly in place, he said, "You truly are the most insufferable woman I have ever known, Hermione. And that is saying something as I have known some truly abominable women in my time."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but he stopped her. "No, it is my turn, you will remain silent."

Severus slid his hand down her arm and then snaked it along her waist. As it reached her back, he pulled her to him.

Hermione's eyes went wide, the feel of his hard body pressed against hers causing her breath to catch.

"I have been tormented for weeks, witch, for weeks, with the memories of that kiss. Tormented with memories of having to emerge from my meeting only find you in the arms of another man, and then another, and then another." His voice rumbled into her hair as he spoke.

Hermione lay limp against him, pliant and confused. She felt him nudge her leg, and as she allowed him to push apart her legs and insinuate his own between them, further entwining their bodies, he rolled her onto her back and towered over her.

"Hermione," he said as he looked into her wide eyes, his finger gently grazing her cheeks, "I want you. I have never met a woman like you. You fill me with a possessive fire I've never felt before. You make me want to treat you like a queen and never let you want for anything. You must... Please..."

Hermione's eyes fluttered as his fingers made their way down her cheek and his words rolled over her. He wanted her. He was asking her, pleading with her. Suddenly, the image of him leaving the ball with the other witch flashed before her, and she stiffened beneath him.

"But you left," she whispered, "with another woman. Why? Why did you not come to me? Why not publicly claim me, if you wanted me so. You abandoned me, Severus."

"I did not leave with another woman," he growled as irritation flooded his voice. "I was merely escorting her out and, believe me, I did not want to do that. She is the daughter of the man I was doing business with, Marcus Parkinson. Yes, the vile woman wants me; she has been after me for years. I assure you, I only walked her and her father to their carriage. It was a matter of business and nothing more. Trust me when I say that she has no hold on me. There is only one woman who has that, and she is you."

"As far as abandoning you..." Severus eyes burned into hers, midnight black into cinnamon brown and he studied her for a moment with a gentleness fondness that took her breath away. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than Hermione had ever heard from him before. "You must understand I have never felt something like this before. Your presence pierces me to the soul. I am a cold man, but with you... With you I am not. I have felt things so strongly with you in these few moments we have shared together that they outweigh the sum of all my other experiences. When I saw you..." He stopped for fear his voice would break and simply stared at the witch who was patiently lying beneath him. Tenderly he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then, taking a deep breath, he continued. "When I saw you with the other men the pain that shot through me left me terrified, and so, I let my anger take over. It was spiteful to avoid you all evening, to abandon you, but I couldn't bring myself to be too close to you. You held my heart in your tiny hands, and I couldn't let you destroy it as I was sure you would do."

Hermione's eyes softened as he said these words and she reached her hand up to brush away the locks of hair that hung down around his face. Tucking them behind his ear, she leaned up to nuzzle his neck, and then, quietly, she whispered into his ear. Her voice was small and painted clearly for him much this whole turn of event had hurt her. "And all these months? Why not contact me? Why leave things like that?"

Severus sighed as Hermione lie back again and looked into his eyes. "I couldn't bring myself to take the risk. You know what kind of man I am, Hermione. It was easier to bury it all than to seek you out and put my heart at risk. But apparently, Lucius and Narcissa knew better..."

A small laugh broke from Hermione. "They never give up, do they?"

His eyebrow raised and lowered himself onto her. As his weight settled gently against her body, he drawled, "Indeed, first the date, then the ball, and now this."

Hermione's eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of his weight on her. "But you have to admit," she said in a breathy voice, "they did have the right idea." Squirming under him as her confidence grew. With a smirked, she pressed her lips hard against his for a second before pulling back. Then putting her arms on his shoulder, she pushed him up slightly to draw his attention. "One question, before this goes any further."

"I would expect no less from you, Hermione," he huffed, leaning into kiss her again.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tutted before allowing him to press a small kiss to her lips.

She felt his tongue run over her bottom lips, and she gasped. "Please, Severus, I need to know." Her voice was a soft whisper and was filled with such sincerity that it instantly stilled him. With a nod, he settled himself next to her and rolled her once again onto her side. Though he did not move to kiss her again, his hand moved over her in slow, tantalising brushes.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione stared off into space for a moment. She couldn't look into his face for fear that he would react with something she didn't want to see. Confiding in quiet, heartfelt words, she said, "Just as you don't want to be hurt, neither do I. Before I... Before we go any further, I need to know what you want from me. How much do you want from me? My heart reacts to you just as strongly yours does to me; it is vulnerable and sensitive to your presence. I do not wish to commit myself without knowing that you will not cast me aside tomorrow. I-I could not bear it, Severus." As she fell silent, she continued to stare off into space. Severus shifted and she felt him move forward and begin to press small kisses onto her neck. One hand gently tangled in her hair, while the other ran down her thigh before sharply pulling her centre against his.

Hermione yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, at the sudden sensation of his arousal pressed against her.

"Hermione," he moaned into her hair, "I want everything from you. If you are willing, everything."

"Everything?" Hermione asked. She tried to pull herself back in order to look at him but he wouldn't loosen his hold on her.

"Damn it, woman," Severus grumbled in a gravelly voice. "Yes, everything, Hermione." He once again attacked her neck, pressing hot kisses down to her shoulder and then back up.

"W-What is everything?" she gasped. "I am not good at this, Severus."

Severus pulled back and looked down at her wryly. "And you think I am?" he asked with an amused chuckle. "Hermione, if I offer everything, then I mean everything. Whatever it is that you want: the answer is yes. As long as you are mine. As long as you come to my bed each night and awaken in my arms each morning. As long as no other can claim you as theirs. As long as you will have me, I offer everything. Must I be more explicit? Weasley was an absolute fool to let such a treasure as you escape, and I refuse to make such a grievous error. I would willingly tie you to me in the most ancient and binding marriage known to wizards in order to ensure you will always be mine. My possessive nature burns to see your belly full of my child, announcing to the world that you are mine. Do you understand now? I want you, Hermione, for everything. For always."

"Oh," Hermione breathed out as she allowed her final hold on her emotions go, and her repressed desires to flare to life. The idea of eternity with this man went, in an instant, from a hidden and unrealistic desire to a true possibility. And then she was kissing him, each hot pressing of her lips to his flesh an answer and promise.

As their legs tangled and bodies entwined, the couple whispered and mewed promised of love and eternity to the other. When they finally had peeled away layers of clothing and the heat of their joining had engulfed them, neither noticed the swirl of magic that moved around them, binding and sealing each and every promise they breathed for all time.

~oOOOo~

As Hermione curled into his side, her head on his chest, she asked, "Severus, how did you come to be here in the first place? Narcissa commandeered me yesterday at work, saying that I was working myself to death. Which, to be honest, I was. It was either that or go crazy thinking about you."

She felt his bare chest vibrate under her cheek as he answered. "Lucius came to Hogwarts and, after berating me for my behaviour as I had not spoken to him or Narcissa since Christmas, he cast a full body-bind on me and then ordered a house-elf to pack me an overnight bag. When the bag was ready, he put in it my arms and placed a Portkey in my hand. After relieving me of my wand, which he wisely placed in the bag, he released me and activated the Portkey. I should not have been surprised; both he and Narcissa greatly enjoy interfering in the lives of others."

"Well," Hermione said with a smile, "I can't say I'm sorry that he did it, although it does seem a bit extreme. But in the end, we are here, and without them..."

"True," Severus said. "However, I cannot allow Lucius' behaviour in this whole affair to go unanswered. Not to mention that he has been unacceptably high-handed. He sought to use you to irritate me to in our blind date, and it was careless of both Narcissa and him to risk your heart in such a way. He cheated, you know, to win the bet in the first place."

Hermione snorted, "You and the stupid bet. You never did tell me what it was."

"And I never shall, dear. Now, if you do not mind, we have some revenge to plan," he said with a mischievous smirk.

"As long as no one is physically injured, Severus," Hermione warned.

"As you say, dear," he drawled silkily, before outlining his plan to remind Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy that one does not mess with Severus Snape and those he loves.


	7. He Seeks Out Revenge with the Glee

**A/N: Alright, I'm marking this fic complete, however there will be an epilogue making an appearance in the next few weeks. ;) Promise! Thank you for all your reviews and support guys! Love You! I hope you enjoy the revenge! :P *Mel***

******_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**

* * *

**The Gentleman Bettor**

Chapter 6 – He Seeks Out Revenge with the Glee of a Boy

_"A Gentleman is a man who will pay his gambling debts even when he knows he has been cheated." Leo Tolstoy_

~oOOOo~

Severus smirked as Lucius looked at him incredulously.

"You sincerely believe that I will drink that?" Lucius said with a sneer.

"I do," Severus drawled coolly. "You sincerely believed that I would adhere to the terms of the date you arranged all those months ago, if I recall. You will drink the potion. You have no choice, Lucius."

Lucius rolled his shoulders uncomfortably before looking at his friend harshly. "Damn it, Severus. What is it?"

"It does not matter what it is, Lucius," Severus ground out. "You know it will not harm you; the terms do not allow for that. Just drink the potion."

Lucius glared at his friend, gripping the phial before him with his well-manicured hand. "Fine, but if this harms me in any way...," he threatened as he picked up the potion in a swift movement and deftly pulled out the stopper.

Severus watched closely as Lucius tipped up the phial and the liquid disappeared down his throat. "Perfect," he murmured as a wicked smile spread across his face, eyes alight with delight. "Well, Lucius" he said, his tone suddenly business like, "I shall bid you goodnight."

As Severus turned and walked out the door, he heard his friend yell after him in a bewildered voice, "Wait, that's it? What does it do?"

~oOOOo~

Hermione worried her bottom lip as Severus once again explained his plan. He hadn't counted on her being reluctant to participate. Slytherin she was most certainly not.

"Are you sure about this, Severus?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, what if she has truly wanted such a thing to happen. I can't bear to do this to my friend if it will cause her pain."

"Not to worry, love," he said as his finger ran along her lip and released it from her nibbling. After kissing her gently, he pulled back and told her, "Narcissa no more wants this than you want a house-elf. She enjoys her freedom and would never wish to be tied down in such a way again. It would limit her meddling and access to high society. Trust me, she will be nothing but horrified, and that is to say nothing of Lucius' reaction."

"Well, okay," she said. "You're sure?" She did not want to do this, but he was insisting on her involvement. There was no denying that Narcissa had behaved in a rather high-handed manner. If Severus could assure her, then she would trust him.

"I am, Hermione," Severus purred to her as he pushed her curls back and kissed her neck.

"Positive?" she gasped out, collapsing against him in surrender.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he felt her respond to his actions. She was always so pliant, so responsive. "Quite," he again purred, knowing it would only further serve to arouse her.

Hermione shuddered, but still focused on his words. "And you will only let her believe for two days? No more? And you will arrange for Draco to tell him them truth at the Victory Ball?"

"Yes and yes," he said with a small sigh. He pulled back from her and looked down into her eyes with a sly smile. "I cannot deny that I wish you to allow a longer time period, I do so enjoy watching Lucius squirm. However, I will concede to two days in return for your cooperation."

Hermione rolled her eyes. The joy he was finding at the prospect of tormenting his friends was almost child-like at times. "All right. Deal," she finally said. "Now, stop trying to distract me and show me the wand movement again. I will not hex my friend without being sure that I know what I'm doing."

~oOOOo~

Lucius reluctantly made ready to leave the Manor after Severus' departure, still unsure as to the effects of the potion. He hated to expose himself to any sort of ridicule, but he could not delay any longer, the meetings were longstanding and could not be rescheduled. He would have to grin and bear it, whatever it was.

"Lalep!" he called, summoning his valet.

With a small pop, an ancient house-elf appeared.

"Master," he said with a nod.

"I will be meeting with Sunak Irnheundel at Gringotts in a half hour," Lucius said as he tied his cravat. "Then, after lunch with Mr. Parkinson at the Green Quill, I will be meeting with Minister Kingsley. Please, have my portfolio ready and waiting in the Apparation foyer in ten minutes. I will also need the files marked Truffla Package and Malkin Initiatives that are laid out on my desk. Then, check with Mistress to see if there are any additional preparations she needs made for our attire for the Victory Ball tomorrow night."

Turning to pick up his outer robe that lay draped over a chair, he looked down at the elf.

Lucius startled slightly, and his hand froze in place. The deep, black orbs of the elf were peering in an eerily fond manner at him, its ears flapping forward in what appeared to be adoration.

"I is being doing as you ask, Master. Is there _anything _else that Master requires?" Lalep asked, bobbing up and down with excitement.

Lucius recoiled at the movement, his stomach churning and eyes wild. "No," he yelped. "That will be all."

"As you is saying, sir," the elf said before blinking out.

Lucius ran his hand through his hair as he worked to steady his breathing and heart rate.

"What the hell was that?" he mumbled. Once he had calmed himself and donned his robe, he looked down at the time. "Blast!" It was two minutes until his meeting at Gringotts and Sunak would take it as a personal insult if he was late. He would have to run, and Malfoys never run.

~oOOOo~

Narcissa was walking though the library of Nym's House, a stack of books in hand, when she felt a fluttering warmth move through her abdomen. Her steps faltered for a moment as the feeling grew within her and then faded suddenly. She stood, waiting anxiously for it to return. When it did not, she shook her head and continued about her task. It was probably nothing.

~oOOOo~

"Again, I apologize for my tardiness, Sunak. It was most rude of me to not honour my word and arrive promptly."

Sunak Irnheundel, the Gringotts Goblin who'd managed the financial portfolio of the Malfoy family for the last 125 years, let out a feral growl through his razor-sharp teeth and snapped his jaw in irritation. He'd never enjoyed working with Lucius Malfoy; the man was too self-centred and had no respect for Goblins.

"Come," Sunak said perfunctorily, before turning and leading the way to his office.

Lucius winced as his face flushed. _Come? _he thought. _What does he mean by that? _

Shaking his head in disbelief, Lucius hurried after the goblin, desperate to do no further damage to the relationship than what he'd already wrought.

~oOOOo~

Narcissa sat the cafe table, waiting for Hermione to arrive, deep in thought.

The warm glow moving through her abdomen had once again captured her attention. Dread had settled in her stomach as she contemplated what it could mean. It wasn't possible. They'd taken very careful and specific steps to ensure that it couldn't happen, but this warmth moving through her indicated otherwise.

"Narcissa?" a voiced called and she looked up in surprise.

"Oh! Hermione, you're here," Narcissa cried as she stood to greet Hermione. "Please. Sit. Sit."

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked curiously, knowing full well what was most likely troubling her friend. "You seem to be upset about something."

"Oh, no. It's nothing, dear. Let's order."

Hermione nodded and looked down at her menu with a small smile. The hex had seemed to do its job; Narcissa was suitably disturbed.

"I think I will have the seared halibut with fresh baby greens and feta," Hermione said to the waiter.

"And I will have... the..." Narcissa looked at the menu with a bewildered look upon her face. She always ordered the ginger glazed salmon with wild rice, but today it just didn't appeal. "I'll have the grilled filet mignon with parmesan garlic butter and fettuccine alfredo."

Hermione tried to push down the grin that was trying to spread across her face. Never in all their time as friends had Narcissa ever ordered something so heavy. Deciding to push her just a little and dearly hoping that Narcissa would respond as anticipated, Hermione asked with a smile, "Shall we share a bottle of the new Riesling you love, Narcissa?"

"Oh!" Narcissa said, "Actually, I think would rather have water today. But if you'd like a glass, by all means."

This time Hermione let her grin break free, "That all right, Narcissa. I'm fine with water today as well. Now, why don't you tell me about your gown for the Victory Ball tomorrow night?"

~oOOOo~

Lucius Malfoy looked down at his sauce splattered shirt as he waited to be shown into Minster Kingley. He couldn't believe that he'd actually got himself dirty. Holding his wand in his shaking hand, he moved to Evanesco the mess but nothing happened. His hand was too unsteady, and, given the odd day he was having, he could understand why.

When Lucius had sat down to lunch with Marcus Parkinson he'd already been sweating profusely. His meeting at Gringotts had not gone well, and by the time he'd made it to the Green Quill, three more people had come on to him. However, as he was sitting and quietly composing himself, his gregarious friend had insisted on greeting him with a hug and then proceeded to order a sausage sandwich for lunch. That alone had made Lucius squirm in his chair, but it wasn't until their meals had been delivered and they had ventured on to their business that Lucius had become truly alarmed.

"We will have to take care of the package, however," Marcus said as he took a large bite from his sandwich. Lucius blanched and looked down at his plate, picking up his fork with a shaking hand. Idly twirling the pasta onto the utensil, he had just started to raise it to his mouth when Marcus continued. "You explicitly said that it wouldn't have your name on it? But when it arrived today, there it was as clear as day, your name written all over _my package_." As Lucius fork clattered loudly onto his plate, sauce splattered against his shirt and a looked for complete horror crossed his face.

Marcus looked up at Lucius in surprise. He'd never seen the usually cool man behave so bizarrely. "Whatever is wrong, Lucius?" he asked looking at his friend seriously. Sighing loudly, Marcus conceded, "You know that if you really insist on it, I will allow you to keep your name on _my package_, but having it displayed so prominently is simply unacceptable. And I will expect payment for allowing such liberties, _in the end_."

As bile rose in his throat, the logical side of Lucius knew that something wasn't right about this. It wasn't normal. However, he couldn't fathom why everyone was coming on to him. With his self-preservation instinct kicking in, he leapt up from his chair and gathered his papers. "You will have to excuse me, Marcus. We will have to conclude this meeting at another time. I am suddenly feeling unwell. Good afternoon." And with that, he fled.

~oOOOo~

Narcissa was once again lost in distracted thought. She was sitting in her favourite chair in the study analysing the warmth in her and the odd symptoms that she'd experienced throughout the day. She knew what it meant, but still, the horrid reality of the situation was not fully solidified in her mind.

A loud slam shook the walls as a very dishevelled Lucius walked into the room, the door behind him still shaking.

"Good heavens," Narcissa exclaimed as she took in her husband's appearance.

He glared at her as he stalked across the room and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. His hair was ruffled, as if he'd been running his hand through it rather often. His shirt was splattered in some kind of liquid, and, perhaps most alarming of all to his wife, it was partially untucked. Lucius never went anywhere without his clothing being impeccable. To have allowed his shirt to remain in such disarray, he must have been really upset.

"Lucius, what is it?" Narcissa asked as she stood and moved across the room to her husband with growing alarm.

"Severus," he hissed, downing the drink in one long swig.

"Severus? Is something wrong? Shall I floo him?" Narcissa asked in rapid succession.

"No! No!" Lucius cried as Narcissa jumped back from him with surprise. "No," he said more quietly. "Severus is fine, Cissy. In fact, I would venture to guess that Severus is more than fine," he spat bitterly.

"All right. Can you at least explain to me what happened today?" she asked.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not. It is between Severus and me."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. Lucius and Severus and their games of one-upmanship had been known to get out of hand in that past, and she had no doubt that this was a case of that. "Fine," she said, her voice turning tight and prim, which immediately made clear to Lucius that she was in a snit, "let's go in to dinner. A glass of wine will do you good, and then, you can go up and change into something more comfortable for the evening."

"That sounds lovely, dear." he said with a relieved sigh, ignoring her obvious irritation. He was simply relieved that he was no longer hearing sexual advances in each word spoken and could finally allow himself to relax. It would be a relief to spend some quiet time with the love of his life, even if she was cross with him.

Lucius helped Narcissa into her seat as he always did and then moved to his normal place at the table. As he sat and began to pour the wine, Narcissa interrupted. "Actually, Lucius, none for me tonight. I've been feeling a bit off today."

Lucius nodded and instead poured Narcissa glass of water.

"Why don't you tell me about your meeting with Kingsley?"

Lucius' hands fumbled the pitcher of water as he sat it loudly onto the table, water sloshing out messily. The memory of Kingsley explaining how, now that the Malkin Initiative had been reviewed, all Lucius would need to do was convince the Wizengamot to let him put it _in_, played in his mind. Kingsley had stressed how _rough_ things would be and had requested Lucius to _come _often to insure the best results. With a small shudder, he said in a weak voice, "If you don't mind, Cis, I'd rather not. Today was not a good day and I'd rather just forget it all."

Narcissa's eyes again narrowed as she studied him. She sipped her water, wondering what Severus had done this time. As her plate appeared, she looked down at her dinner. Instantly, nausea flooded her. "Oh, Merlin," she said as she rushed from the table and in the direction of the nearest loo.

Lucius ran after his wife, alarmed. "Narcissa, what is it? Are you unwell?" he asked as he trailed after the woman rushing down the hall, his prior problems all pushed to the back of his mind.

"Oh, Lucius," she cried as she stopped at a window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air rush over her, she took several deep breaths and waited for the nausea to fade. For a moment, she let the refreshing air surround her with eyes closed and thought about how her husband would react to her news. They were far too old for this. She did not want this. Lucius would not want this.

"Lucius," she whispered as she turned to face the man who was now embracing her from behind. Looking up at him with eyes that were quickly flooding with tears, she said, "I'm pregnant."

Lucius stood and looked at his wife in confusion. He'd thought he'd heard her say that she was... No. She couldn't have said that. They were too old. Not to mention that they'd taken precautions years ago, and those things didn't just happen. The spell was foolproof. "How?" he asked abstractly.

"I don't know," she whispered.

~oOOOo~

Mr and Mrs Lucius Malfoy made their way around the Victory Day Ball, mingling with the distinguished guests, and though they looked as regal as they always did, they were both still filled with horror at the realisation they had come to the evening before. Not only that, as Lucius made his way around the hall, he had twice had to avoid Marcus Parkinson and had rather rudely put off speaking to Minister Shacklebolt.

As Lucius took Narcissa's hand and led her to the ballroom floor, he quietly asked, "Do you think you can bear it, dear?"

With a sigh, Narcissa allowed him to spin her as the dance required, and when she was once again facing him, she said, "It is a frightening prospect. I find no joy in it at this time, but no doubt, with time, I will adjust to the idea. I am still at a loss as to how such a thing could happen."

Lucius simply nodded and said, "I, too, am curious," before spinning her into another twirl as they danced around the hall.

As the dance came to a close, a voice rang out across the hall. Both Narcissa and Lucius turned in surprise. Their son was making an announcement.

"Good evening, Gentle Witches and Wizards." Draco said formally. "Please forgive my interruption of tonight's festivities, but, it is traditional to make such an announcement at once, and as my wife has just had pleasure of enlightening me, I am very pleased to be able to share with all of you that we are expecting our first child. Please, if you would, raise your glasses to my wife, Astoria Malfoy."

"To Astoria," everyone said as they drank to the younger Mrs. Malfoy, and the two, very pale-faced, elder Malfoys fainted dead away.

"Thank you," Draco said before cancelling the Sonorous; the grin on his face making his joy apparent. Carefully he watched the house-elves, who had been prepared for such an eventuality, quickly Apparate his unconscious parents to a side room, where they could recover their composure. He had agreed to surprise and tease them, not publicly humiliate them.

"Congratulations, Draco," Severus said as he and Hermione approached. "Your parents made it safely to the room?" he asked quietly as he shook hands with Draco.

Draco nodded and then turned to greet Hermione. As he shook her hand, he noticed the sparkle of what appeared to be a wedding ring on her finger. With a raised eyebrow he said, "Good evening, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly pulled her hand away, covering her ring in the process. "Ferret," she replied in what had become their typical greeting. Smiling, she said, "Congratulations. Where is Astoria this evening?"

"Astoria is sitting with her sister. She is feeling rather off and didn't want to chance walking around the room too much. She can't keep anything down at all right now."

"I will send over some of the anti-nausea draught that I just had occasion to brew. If she takes a small sip each morning before she gets out of bed, she should feel better almost right away," Severus offered politely.

Draco looked at his godfather for a moment in confusion; a pregnancy-safe anti-nausea draught had to be especially brewed as it had a short shelf life. He couldn't fathom why his godfather would all of a sudden have it on hand. Then, he noticed the blush that was growing on Hermione cheeks. That, coupled with the ring on her finger, and he quickly realised what was going on. "Uncle, I believe I should be offering you congratulations and to you too, Mrs. Snape."

Hermione smiled sweetly, before replying with a saucy grin, "Thank you, but please, call me Auntie." A look of horror flooded Draco's face as Hermione barely stifled the chortle building inside her, and Severus barked out a laugh.

Draco stood stunned for a moment before his brain managed to wrap around the idea of a happy Severus Snape. "You are rather jolly tonight, Severus," Draco teased finally.

"Oh, shut it," Severus scolded gruffly. "For once in my life let me enjoy myself. I have exacted a fitting revenge on your meddling parents, and as I find myself suddenly married and expecting a child, I believe I should be allowed a single evening of peace?"

"Indeed you are, Uncle," Draco agreed. "Now, do you think that we should go and relieve my parents of their misery?"

"If you insist," Severus drawled as he drew his new wife to him and wrapped a protective arm around her. "Come, Hermione. Let us enlighten our meddling friends."

"As you say, love," she said, gently kissing her husband on the lips. Severus' arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, deepening the kiss.

"Oy!" Draco snapped. "I really don't need to see this."

Pulling apart the couple turned to face Draco with contentedly smug looks upon their faces. Then, with Severus in the lead, the trio left the ball and went to relieve Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy from their misapprehension and misery.


End file.
